My eternal thanks to: Wrath lover, Just Leah and .nInJy. (I am so terribly sorrt if I butchered your name)

And to Kristie94: I'm sure she does.

I also feel obliged to thank the 27 people who viewed, with or without reviewing.

Now let the story begin!

RanFan's POV

I'm running, running so very fast. I hear my pursuer gaining, and pour on the speed, breathing hard. How long have I been running? Long enough that my lungs are burning and my legs feel like jelly. I trip over a rock and go sprawling on the rough stone, scraping my arms from palm to elbow. As I scramble to get up, my pursuer tackles me down and I bang my head. I see stars, and then somebody some distance ahead of me snarls protectively. "Let. Her. Go." I look up and blood runs into my eyes as the shadow being grabs him by the throat. He seems almost relieved as the thing sticks its hand into his chest, going after his heart, and I swear I see him mouth my name.

"Young Lord!" I sit bolt upright, looking around frantically for him to make sure that he's alright. I find him after a few moments, and give him a quick once over, noting his odd, but not unwelcome, lack of a shirt. "Young Lord, are you unharmed?"

He frowns slightly, almost disapprovingly. "Yes, I'm fine. You are an excellent bodyguard." As I smile, little black dots appear in my vision, dancing around with ever increasing speed. My eyelids begin to flutter, and every time they close briefly the spots multiply, growing in size as well as number. I see his mouth move, but don't hear the words. I want to ask him to repeat what he said, but all the energy seems to have drained from my body. My eyes close and I fall backwards, into arms that smell of rainwater and blood.

I'm in the strangest place, a long, shadowy hallway, with the only light coming from beneath a closed door at the end. I take a step, and hear a rustle of fabric. Looking down, I see that I am wearing a white dress, simple, but beautiful and elegant at the same time. My left hand is flesh and bone, and sports a ring that glimmers, even in the dark. I shake my head, "No, no way. That is not it." I shake off the fantasy and walk towards the door, clumsy in the dress' bell-like skirt. When I get there, the knob turns easily in my hand, and the door swings inward to reveal, "Ling?"

He turns around, tie in a hopeless knot. "RanFan! What are you doing here? Don't you know its bad luck?"

"Huh?"

He sighs, smiling a little. "I'm not supposed to see the dress until the altar."

I blink, confused, and suddenly the cozy scene dissolves and we're in front of an enormous stone gate, with nothing but whiteness in every direction. I'm flat on my back, and Ling is standing in front of me, arms out, hands gray and clawed. His jacket and shirt are ripped in multiple places, and he seems to be deflecting something. "Ling?"

He turns his head to look at me, a relieved smile on his face. "RanFan! You're awake!"

Then black hands wrap around him, and begin to pull him into the gate. I clumsily regain my footing and run after him. "Ling!"

"Ran..." A black hand covers his mouth, choking off his cry.

"LING!" I get almost close enough to touch him, then black hands pull me in the opposite direction. The distance between us grows, and I find myself screaming his name ever louder. Suddenly my eyes snap open, and I slam them shut immediately in a futile attempt to contain the tears.

Ling pats me awkwardly on the back, holding me close. "RanFan, it's alright. It's fine. I'm here."

The tears spill over, and I throw my arm around him, ignoring the burning pain it raises in my shoulder. Ling grasps my arm just below the elbow and puts it back at my side. I try to put it back, but he restrains me. As I taste the first drops of salty water, he tilts my head up, and it is through watery eyes that I see him draw closer. And then our lips meet. To my surprise, I find myself kissing him back as one of his hands tangles itself into my hair and his other arm wraps around my waist, drawing me closer. His arm keeps mine pinned at my side, so I simply wrap my legs around him instead. He's warm, and his heat makes me shiver for no reason I can explain.

No. Wait. This is wrong. He is my prince. And I am his bodyguard. So why can't I find the will to struggle? Why can't I find it in myself to want him to stop? We separate, gasping desperately for air, and he leans his forhead agianst mine, smiling. "I take it you're feeling better."

His statement confuses me, "What do you mean?"

"Your head." I begin to lift my arm to feel my head, but my shoulder protests and he grabs my hand, lowering it to his lap so that no stress is on my shoulder, "Don't." He looks down at our joined hands, and I see a glint of fear in his eye. "RanFan, your hand is blue." I look down and see that he's right, from nails to wrist my hand is a blue that shames the night sky. Ling hesitantly places his hands on my shirt's top button, and I look him in the eyes. "Body heat." I nod, bending my arm at the elbow to undo the buttons, but he beats me to the punch and peels away the soaked shirt, flinging it off to one side.

He grabs my hand and splays it on my chest, placing the freezing cold appendage directly above my heart. He hugs me tightly, sandwiching my hand between our bare chests and sharing his body heat. He kisses me and a shiver rolls down my spine, followed by a wave of heat that spreads throughout my body. As my hand begins to regain feeling, a voice calls out from above us "Hey Al! Look who's getting to second base!"

hmm... only 89 hit total yesterday. Foo. Ah well! I'm still indecisive as to

REWIEVERS LOVED BEYOND THE BOUNDARIES OF SANITY!

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I'm lonely!
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clik me pweez
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